Cassidy ended up not being able to eat anything. The moment the food touched her tongue, her stomach twisted, and she rushed back to the restroom, overcome with nausea. When she returned, Georgia's concern had doubled.
"That's it," Georgia said firmly. "I'm taking you to the hospital."
Cassidy shook her head, pale but composed. "No, I'll be fine. If this doesn't go away by tomorrow, I promise I'll go to the clinic."
Georgia didn't look convinced, but finally relented. She finished her meal while Cassidy just sipped on water. When they left the restaurant, Georgia apologized again.
"I'm so sorry, Cass. I was the one who asked you out to eat, but you couldn't even eat anything…"
Cassidy gave her a tired smile. "It's okay. Really. I still enjoyed seeing you."
Before they parted ways, Cassidy asked, "How long are you staying in Manhattan?"
"Just until tomorrow," Georgia replied. "I have a charity event I'm organizing back home, so I need to be back by tomorrow night."
"I'm really glad we got to meet and talk," Cassidy said sincerely.
"Me too. I'm happy to see you're doing okay after everything. I hope now you can finally do everything you've always wanted to… become whoever you want to be," Georgia replied, giving her a warm smile.
The two sisters embraced tightly before parting, both agreeing to stay in touch more often through calls and texts.
Later that night, Cassidy arrived back at her apartment. She collapsed onto the sofa, her body heavy and tired. She closed her eyes for just a moment, but the wave of nausea returned suddenly and powerfully. She rushed to the bathroom and vomited into the toilet, her body trembling, her strength drained.
Afterward, she changed into a long pajama set and, still feeling weak, called one of her acquaintances—a female doctor named Julia. When Julia picked up, she asked immediately, "Cass? What's wrong?"
"Can you come to my apartment?" Cassidy's voice was faint. "I feel really sick. I wanted to go to a clinic or hospital, but I don't think I can make it. Could you check me and maybe bring something for the nausea?"
About half an hour later, Julia arrived with her medical bag in hand. She asked about Cassidy's symptoms, and Cassidy told her how it started at dinner—how just the smell of the food made her nauseous. The fishy scent had been overwhelming. And since returning home, the nausea had gotten worse, leaving her weak and exhausted.
"Is that the only symptom?" Julia asked.
Cassidy nodded. "Yes, just that."
Julia began examining her with a stethoscope, but something in her expression changed. After a moment, she asked, "Cass, have you had your period this month? When was your last one?"
Cassidy blinked, confused. "My cycles aren't regular… but I think… the last time was… two months ago."
Julia paused. Cassidy's eyes widened. The thought crossed her mind like a lightning bolt. No. No way.
"Julia," she asked hesitantly, "Am I… could I be pregnant?"
Julia leaned back slightly. "Physically, everything seems fine. But based on your symptoms and what you just told me… there's a strong possibility you might be."
Cass froze. Julia continued gently, "I brought a pregnancy test with me. If you'd like, you can try it now."
Cass nodded slowly. She took the test and walked to the bathroom, feeling like she was floating in a dream. In the bathroom, she waited over five minutes, staring at the test as the result developed.
Two lines.
Her knees gave out, and she sat on the bathroom floor, staring at the test in disbelief.
A while later, she emerged and found Julia still waiting. She held up the test and asked, her voice quiet, "How accurate are these?"
"They're usually very accurate," Julia replied. "But if you want to be absolutely sure, I'd recommend visiting an OB-GYN. A proper check-up will confirm everything."
Cassidy nodded, her expression distant. "Thank you… for coming."
Julia offered her a gentle smile and handed her a few vitamins—nothing strong, just something to help with the fatigue. Then she left.
After Julia left, silence filled the apartment like a thick fog. Cassidy sat motionless on the couch, the pregnancy test still lying on the table, its two pink lines quietly confirming the truth. She stared at it, her thoughts a storm of disbelief and questions.
Pregnant. The word felt foreign—unreal.
She leaned back, pressing a hand to her stomach, as if hoping the stillness there would tell her it wasn't true. But everything lined up: the nausea, the exhaustion, the missed period she had brushed off. It wasn't just in her head.
Her memory wandered to the last time she had been with Zeke. That night felt so far away now, buried under everything that had happened since. He hadn't used protection. He rarely did. "Let it flow," he had said once, voice low in the dark. "If a child comes, it comes."
Back then, she hadn't taken those words seriously. Now, they clung to her like a weight.
And as she sat there, heart pounding quietly in her chest, a slow realization settled in, deep and undeniable—
She might be carrying his child.
The storm of emotions within her surged—confusion, anxiety, disbelief. Her mind chased every direction but found no clear answer. She wasn't ready for this. Not mentally. Not emotionally. Especially not alone.
But before the panic could truly take hold, Cassidy took a breath and steadied herself.
Maybe the test was wrong.
It was possible, right? Maybe it was faulty. Maybe she had used it incorrectly. Maybe the stress and exhaustion were messing with her body. It wouldn't be the first time.
"I'll go to the hospital tomorrow," she whispered to herself, as if saying it aloud could make everything feel more under control. "I'll get a proper checkup. Then I'll know for sure."
But even as she said it, a quiet voice in her heart murmured: What if it's true?
What if she really was pregnant?
What would she do?
She didn't have the answer. Not yet. And that uncertainty sat heavily in her chest, like a secret too big to hold.
***
The next morning, the city was still wrapped in a cold hush when Cassidy left her apartment. Manhattan stirred slowly, but her thoughts raced ahead of her steps.
Instead of a general hospital, Cassidy had made an appointment at The Roseland Center for Women & Maternity, a quiet, exclusive clinic tucked into the Upper East Side—far from the noise, far from prying eyes. Everything about the place felt serene. White walls, soft jazz in the waiting room, sunlight spilling through linen curtains.
But serenity couldn't calm the storm in her chest.
When the nurse called her name, she stood on shaky legs and followed her down a hallway, into a warmly lit consultation room. She sat stiffly on the exam bed, her fingers gripping the edge of the cushion as if to anchor herself to something real.
A few minutes later, the door opened. A woman in her late forties walked in—elegant, composed, with streaks of gray in her chestnut hair and a name tag that read Dr. Emily Rosenthal.
"Good morning," the doctor greeted, smiling gently as she approached. "Cassidy Calista, correct?"
Cass nodded, her voice barely there. "Yes."
"I understand you're here due to some nausea, fatigue, and a positive home test?"
Another nod.
"Alright," Dr. Rosenthal said, her tone warm but professional. "We'll run a blood test to confirm your hormone levels, but I'd also like to perform a quick ultrasound. That should give us a clearer picture."
Cassidy swallowed hard and nodded. "Okay."
The nurse dimmed the lights. Cassidy lay back slowly, her heart thudding in her ears. Cold gel touched her lower abdomen, and the soft whirring of the ultrasound machine filled the room.
Dr. Rosenthal narrowed her eyes slightly, focusing on the monitor. Then, she smiled.
"There it is," she said softly, turning the screen toward Cassidy. "Right there."
Cassidy's breath caught in her throat.
A tiny flicker pulsed rhythmically in the black and white image.
"That flicker you see? That's the heartbeat."
Cassidy's eyes burned. She blinked rapidly, trying to hold herself together.
Dr. Rosenthal glanced down at her chart, then back at the screen. "Based on the size and development, I'd say you're about eight weeks along. The heartbeat looks strong. Everything appears normal so far."
Eight weeks.
Cassidy stared at the screen as if it belonged to someone else. A blur of white and gray, but all she could see was that steady little thump—like a secret trying to be heard.
Dr. Rosenthal's voice softened even more. "Have you had any cramping? Bleeding?"
Cassidy shook her head. "No."
"That's a good sign. Still, we'll keep monitoring everything closely if you decide to continue the pregnancy."
Cassidy nodded, but her mind was far from the room. The word if echoed like a riddle. She wasn't sure what to say. What to feel.
After a pause, she spoke—voice brittle. "So… it's real. I'm really pregnant."
Dr. Rosenthal gave a small smile. "Yes. You are."
Silence settled in the room. Cassidy stared at the screen, her chest rising and falling with slow, uncertain breaths.
She was pregnant. And there was no more denying it.
She was carrying Zeke's child.
***